Tom dashed out the door, his mind occupied with the tiny flash drive in his hands. It held the marketing report his boss had asked him to submit within an hour. The slow ticking of time was loud in his mind.
One misstep and he came tumbling down the staircase. His hands flailed in the air as he tried to catch a grip on the railings. But what he caught was the air, light as a leaf. He went head-first down the stairs.
His eyes spun, his arms scrapped against the concrete wall, ripping off some parts of his skin. His knees hit hard at the edges of the stairs, and his glasses flew off his face. But in all, he thought about the flash drive, which held the report. Praying that it doesn't crack; if not, he will lose the report and might eventually lose his job.
Landing hard on the floor, he quickly got up and searched for it. Ignoring his pain, Clutched there tightly in his hands was the flasdrive, safe and not cracked.
"Thank goodness," he said.
